


Inquisitor Mourns

by alynnamador



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Comfort, Dealing With Loss, Death of family, F/M, Gen, Hurt, Sadness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-10-17 19:02:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10600224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alynnamador/pseuds/alynnamador
Summary: Ilia Lavellan mourns the death of her Clan.





	

Angry. Upset. Pained. Sad.

Or maybe just… numb.

I left the grand room that housed the War Table without words. I wanted to stomp and scream. I wanted to cry and shout. I wanted to make a scene. But what good would that do? It certainly wouldn’t change the way things were now. And it certainly would not reflect well on me or my Inquisition. To the void with it all.

The large doors to the War Room were heavy, and didn’t shut with the familiar hollow echo until I had made it nearly out of Josephine’s study. The Great Hall of Skyloft was still in shambles, but the scaffolding along the walls told the story of rapid repair. The Orlesian guests in the Great Hall, dressed in the finest Val Royaux had to offer, no doubt, stood in stark contrast to the crumbling walls.

I ignored all of it.

I looked down at my boots to avoid making eye contact so that my guests and friends could not see the tears that stung behind my eyes. Once I reached the door to my chambers, I yanked it open and pulled it shut behind me, so that everyone in the hall knew better than to follow. The Inquisitor will not see anyone today.

The pathway to my actual room was a balcony that overlooked the War Room. From below, I could hear Cullen’s heavy voice and Leliana’s Orlesian lilt in almost inaudible conversation. If Josephine and Cassandra were still down there, they did not contribute to the subdued conversation that was taking place.

My boots clicked as I made the rest of the way across the balcony to my chambers and let the door shut behind me, much quieter and gentler than the large doors of the War Room. Inside, I surveyed the space before I ultimately decided to sit on the bed. It was firm, a little smelly, and lined with ugly Fereldan-esque sheets. Not for the first time since the Conclave, I longed for the comfort of my own bed.

A bed that was surely smoldering ashes now.

I sat on the edge of the bed for a long while in silence trying to wake from this nightmare. Had it not been but a week or two ago when I told Vivienne that I wanted to return to my clan once this was all over? Had I not just four days ago received a letter from The Keeper and my sister? I looked over at the open letter on the desk in the corner of the room, haphazardly tossed there and all but forgotten. I would trade it all: The Inquisition, Skyhold, the small amount of good that we’ve started here… Just to have a home to go back to. What was it I was fighting for now, if not to finish this and go home?

For how long I sat in silence on that bed, I couldn’t say. There was a gentle, nearly inaudible knock at the door that pulled me from my numb reverie, and I noticed that it was starting to get dark out.

“Inquisitor?”

“Come in, Commander.” I heaved a sigh and stood to greet him. Bitter anger surfaced in the depths of my heart and I suppressed the urge to retract my invitation. I was actively trying not to blame him.

“Inquisitor.” He breathed at the sight of me from the top of the stairs. “I just… came to see that you were okay.” He took a step forward into the room and did not move any closer. He was a much smaller man than my mind’s eye always imagines him as without that large coat of his draped across his shoulders.

I gestured toward the balcony that overlooked the courtyards of the castle, and the snowcapped mountains in the distance before leading him in that direction to lean against the rail. My heels clicked evenly in the awkward silence. Cullen followed quietly and stood next to me, close enough that a whisper would be heard well enough between us.

“Inquisitor-” he started.

“I had a sister.” I cut him off, looking down to the courtyards below. “Her name was Rayna. She was my clan’s First.” I admitted to the ex-Templar. He shifted uncomfortably but did not otherwise try to respond. “She was a beautiful girl. She might have even caught Dorian’s eye for a fraction of a moment.” I huffed with mild amusement through my nose. “She was good with words and a beautiful singer. The children would line the campfire every evening to hear her tell her favorite stories. In truth, she was the one who was supposed to be at the Conclave. It was a last minute decision that I was to go. As good as she was with words, she was a powerful and skilled Mage. We feared the Templars would sniff her out before she even got there.”

Silence. It stretched between us for a long time before I continued on. “My best friend’s name was Taeran. While I lead the Hunt, he was my Second in Command.” My heart squeezed at the mention of his name. Taeran, in truth, was my first love. We'd have been bonded before too long... But I, for some reason, could not bring myself to admit that to Cullen. “He was leading in my absence until I returned from the Conclave. And then I got caught up in this mess and he was leading until I came back from being held by the Inquisition.” I paused and choked back a sob. “It was perhaps a week ago, I sent a letter informing the clan that Taeran would lead until I returned from leading the Inquisition.”

Silence. I looked over to Cullen, who’s eyes in this moment reminded me so much of Taeran. Not in color or shape, no. But in understanding. And a fear hidden behind courage, and a kindness in the lines that fanned from the corners. My heart squeezed again, pushing tears forward, and this time, I did not stop them.

“The plan was always to go home after all this was done.” I admitted. I huffed a sob which opened the gateway for all the tears that had been threatening behind my eyes for all this time and leaned into him. I allowed myself to feel vulnerable in the presence of this human. He tensed on the gentle impact, but relaxed almost immediately and wrapped his arms around me and rubbed gently up and down my arm.

“I'd give the world and all that I am if I could do something to make things different. I’m so sorry.” He whispered before he placed a gentle kiss on the top of my head.

“I know you are.”

**Author's Note:**

> It always kinda bothered me that, if the Lavellan clan dies... like NO ONE SAYS ANYTHING. It's completely glossed and skipped over. Like it didn't even happen.  
> Uh, so I made my Inquisitor sad.


End file.
